


It's Gettin Hot In Herre

by 74days



Series: Meet-Cute AU's [47]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Character, Asexual Natasha Romanov, Asexual Relationship, Boyfriend for Hire, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, F/M, First Meetings, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Meet-Cute, No rape/non-con occurs, Scenting, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 06:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/74days/pseuds/74days
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky Barnes is so over being hit on my every single Alpha in New York City, so when a friend gives him a number for CAP he jumps at the chance to get a fake Alpha boyfriend - and Steve Rogers might not be what he was expecting but he sure does the job - but one persistent Alpha doesn't seem to care...</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Gettin Hot In Herre

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: Bucky is roofied and the man responsible tries to take advantage of this in Bucky's own home. If this is triggering to you, please do not read. Although Bucky is not touched in ANY WAY, I know that this is such a sensitive subject and would not like anyone to feel surprised or uncomfortable reading. So please be aware that there is the threat of attempted rape in here. Despite the fact that it wasn't carried out doesn't make it any less triggering, so stay safe and I love you.

The card was sitting in his wallet, between the leather and cash, and Bucky was pretty sure Natasha knew it was there, despite there being absolutely no way she could know about it. Rhodey had slipped it into his hand three nights ago when Bucky had been hit on by what felt like absolutely every single Alpha in New York. He was sure it was getting worse the older he got – or maybe the joys of being aggressively hit on every time he left the house were fading with age.

When he’d been younger it had been great, never having to buy a drink, always knowing that someone would want to dance with him, someone would want to go home with him if he felt like it. It was only when he’d joined the army and took the suppressants that he realised the freedom of walking through a room and not have people pawing at him – being able to walk home on his own without being followed from a discreet distance by some well-meaning Alpha who ‘just wanted to make sure he was okay’ and then (you guessed it!) hit on him.

But at 26 he was out of the army and the suppressants had been stopped and Bucky was back to being an unattached Omega in a city with over 8 million people and at least half of them were Alphas. His parents wanted him to move back to Iowa, where the Alpha population was lower, but the idea of being the only Omega in the whole town made his skin crawl.

“And then I kneed him in the balls.” Natasha was saying, with a wicked smirk. She was Omega too, but worked for the same top secret branch of the government Bucky **_used_** to work for and was therefore still on her suppressants. Bucky envied her neutral scent, because he could already see the Alpha at the bar talking to the server. Any moment the poor girl was going to walk over with a drink and a ‘from the gentleman by the bar,’ and Bucky was going to scream.

“I’m sure he deserved it.” He said, trying not to make eye contact with bar-douche just in case he thought it was some kind of invite to come over. Bucky only saw Natasha once a month now, he certainly didn’t want an interruption. “Did you tell Nick?”

“I don’t need to run to my superior every time some asshole thinks he can ‘convince’ me that what I’m missing is in his pants.”

Bucky grinned. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I didn’t tell Nick.” She shrugged. “He found out anyway when the idiot decided to report me for unnecessary violence.” She made little quotation marks around ‘unnecessary’.

Bucky laughed, too loud for the quiet bar, but he didn’t care. Natasha was grinning a little too, although she was trying to hide it by checking out her short nails. “Please tell me he shot him.”

“I have no idea.” She smirked. “Although I did hear that he’s been relocated.” A pause. “Siberia is nice this time of year, right?”

They’d been the only two Omegas on Nick Fury’s task force, a special ops programme within the army that answered only to the president and the joint chiefs. They’d been chosen especially for their skills. Natasha, who had defected from Russia when she’d met an unknown Alpha who lived in the States, for her uncanny ability to be able to beat the ever-loving shit out of people five times her size and Bucky for his skills with a rifle. He still held the world record for distance, although it wasn’t recorded anywhere. All the other members had been Alphas. Nick doted on her, in his own way, of course, and Bucky too – he had an Omega kid of his own somewhere, kept safely away from his job. People used to joke, when Bucky and Nat had shown up on operations, that the party favours had arrived. Even with the suppressants some guys were just dicks. It had been easier for Bucky. He didn’t look like an Omega. He was tall enough and broad enough that he looked like a Beta, even an Alpha, if he postured enough. On suppressants he was invisible, a Beta with a smart mouth and delusions of being an Alpha. Natasha had it harder. She was small and compact, but curvy enough to catch the eye. The Perfect Omega. In Russia they used that to their advantage, she’d been practically pimped out on ops, always a honeytrap. Nick put her on suppressants as soon as she hit American soil and she’d never been happier. Clint didn’t even mind, she’d told him one day, drunker than he’d ever seen her. Clint didn’t care she wanted to stop her heats, or that she wanted to be Beta. Clint just wanted her to be happy. Bucky had never met him (she kept their worlds very much apart) but he liked him.

And there was a card in Bucky’s wallet.

* * *

 

“So,” Natasha grinned, after drinking the drink that had been brought over by the server ‘from the gentleman at the bar’ just like Bucky had predicted. “Are you going to talk about it?”

“About what?” He stalled, grinning back at her like a shark. He knew her ways. She’d even taught him some of them. “Your never-ending array of hairstyles? I saw you  ** _yesterday_**. You had a bob.”

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and grinned. “Are you sure it was me?”

“You flipped me the bird and shoved some poor unsuspecting dude with a dog into an alleyway.”

“I wasn’t ready to talk to you.”

“I figured that.” He pointed out. “When you shoved Clint into an alleyway.”

“Who says it was Clint?” She shrugged.

“I noticed his hearing aids.”

She nodded, impressed. “I wasn’t sure you would. Stupid fucking beanie hat. I hate it.”

“Eye searing purple’s his colour.” Bucky pointed out. Natasha didn’t want Bucky to meet Clint, and that was okay. It was good she had things separate. It was also good that she knew she could talk to Bucky about Clint if she needed to.

“I notice you changing the subject.”

“I noticed you noticing.”

“I noticed that too.” She smirked. “Tell me, or do I have to beat it out of you?”

Bucky was just about to tell her to stick her smug smile up her ass when a hand lands on her shoulder. Bucky closes his eyes because he really, really doesn’t want to see someone disembowelled up close. Once was enough.

“Is this lady causing you a problem?” The Alpha from the bar asked, in a smooth as velvet voice. Bucky wants to crawl under the table and die because this… this is why he’s got a white card in his wallet.

* * *

 

Being an Omega is a Good Thing. When Bucky had been a kid everyone thought he was going to be a Beta, maybe even an Alpha. He was cocky and brave and strong and looked out for his sisters. Then, about a week before his 11th birthday (sooner than anyone expected) he went into heat, and his whole fucking family had thrown a party. A **_party_**. Because Bucky was an Omega and that was a Good Thing. That meant his dad got a promotion within the week (although everyone agreed it wasn’t  ** _anything_**  to do with how his boss had a teenage girl who’d just presented as Alpha the month before) and his mom got discounts at the local store, or how suddenly Bucky had gone from sporty nerd to ‘ _are you sure you wanna play football? Don’t you wanna try drama or something?_ ’ because Christ No, Bucky could get  ** _hurt_**  playing football. All through high school he fought his ass off to stay on the football team, he worked harder and ran more than any other kid on Track. He dated, of course. He liked dating. It was easy. Everyone wanted to make him happy. It wasn’t until he realised that it was because he was an Omega and not because he was actually a good guy. Then he joined the army right out of school and they gave him suppressants and suddenly Bucky was… free.

Eight years later, with a plate in his shoulder that meant he’d never hold a rifle again, he was back to being… well… the slightly weird Omega. The one who looked and acted like a Beta, or worse – an Alpha. But still an Omega.

Still an Omega though, and still worth chasing it seemed. Sure, the law was in his favour, and he could certainly call over the bouncer and get this guy thrown out on his ass for bothering them, but he’d rather not cause a scene. He wanted a quiet fucking life. He wondered if it would be worth trying to get Nick to sign him up as a consultant or something, anything to get back on suppressants.

“No, she’s not.” Bucky said, pointedly. “She’s my friend.”

“She’s gonna break every bone in your hand if you don’t remove it from her person.” Natasha ground out between her teeth. Bucky was pleased to see the guy didn’t take it as an idle threat, and removed his hand quickly.

“You shouldn’t be wasting your time with a Beta.” He told Bucky, not even looking at Natasha. “I can look aft-”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Bucky cut him off. “Leave us alone or I’ll have them throw you out.”

 ** _Them_**  were the three Beta bouncers who were looking over with worried expressions. Bucky was somewhat of a regular. If he stopped coming to the bar, people would want to know why, and if it turned out they’d let some Alpha hassle him, people would stop coming. They had to make sure their Omega clientele were safe.

“Okay,” The guy said, stepping back. He pulled a white card out of his pocket and placed it on the table. “In case you change your mind.”

Natasha snorted, but that was okay, the guy didn’t look twice at her. Bucky knew that if she’d been off suppressants, no one would have looked twice at **_him_**. He wondered again if asking if Nick would take him back would be worth it. He doubted it. He was used to being on active duty, Nick would be lucky if he could wrangle Bucky a desk job with his bum shoulder – Bucky would stick with his life of luxury. Maybe the pay in the army hadn’t been a lot, but Bucky had always been good at putting his money in good investments. He wasn’t the richest person he knew, but it was a close thing.

“I don’t miss that.” Natasha said, when the Alpha was out of earshot. “How are you coping?”

“Fine.” Bucky lied, with a shrug. If she knew he was lying, she let it drop.

* * *

 

He was paying the taxi driver when she grabbed his wallet and pulled out the white card Bucky had been trying to forget was there. “You actually took the car-” she started, mockingly, until she saw what it was. “Oh, never mind.”

The climbed out of the cab, and Bucky stood on the street by the hotel Natasha was staying at. He knew that she’d moved in with Clint, and that he lived in the city, but obviously, Nat didn’t want Bucky to know where. He looked up at the building and sighed. “Rhodey gave me the card. I haven’t used it, okay?”

“I didn’t say anything.” She shrugged, looking down the street. They could have been strangers, to the outsider, waiting on a cab or just loitering.

“You weren’t saying anything really loudly.”

She shrugged again. “It’s nothing to do with me. It might be a good idea.”

Bucky blinked. Natasha telling him something  _might be a good idea_  was around the same as a normal persons ‘You should totally do the thing’.

“Look,” She told him, a glance in his direction before she slowly made it towards the hotel doors, “You know the types of guys who do this.”

He nodded. Always the same. Little weedy Alphas who never had a chance of mating, who looked like Omegas or scrawny Betas – with just enough oomph to scent and not a lot else. Bucky would pay for a service, some scent marking a few times a week, enough to pass as pre-mated and taking it slow… and the defective Alpha would get his rocks off with an Omega without the strain of actually having to pop a knot. Every Omega knew about the service, not a lot of Alphas knew, and hardly any Betas. It wasn’t like it was a service a lot of people needed. “They aren’t **_all_ ** like that, you know,” She said, as though she could read his mind. “But if it gets guys like bar-douche off your ass for a while, then do it.” She shrugged. “Mostly I’m impressed Rhodey knew about it.”

Rhodey was an Air Force commander who they’d worked with before. The Alpha was a great guy, who had a lot of pull because his best friend was Tony Stark. Nick might not be a huge fan of the arms manufacturer, but he got results and his gear was always top of the line. Rumours were that he’d been Tony’s Alpha, right up until Pepper Potts took over the company and… well… female Alphas weren’t  ** _quite_** as rare as Omegas, but rare enough it made headlines. Rhodey was a nice unmated Alpha who Bucky trusted – and he’d slipped a card to Bucky like he  ** _knew_**  how hard it had been for Bucky coming off suppressants.

“I guess.”

“Do it.” Natasha said, decisively. “Before you go into heat and start humping the furniture.”

* * *

 

He picked up the phone at 8.59am and dialled. At exactly 9am, the line connected and Bucky listened to the message.

“You’ve reached CAP, our office is not available right now, but if you’d like to leave your name and number, and the reason for your call, someone will get back to you.”

It was about as generic as a personalised message could be. Jesus. They weren’t kidding about the anonymous part.

“Bucky Barnes,” He said, leaving his number. “I was given your card by Rhodey Rhodes and would like to discuss a possible arrangement.”

* * *

 

30 minutes later, his phone rang. He figured that was a decent response time.

“Barnes.” He said, picking up. He’d taken the precaution of having a pen and paper on the table in front of the couch and half a mug of coffee was still steaming away.

“Mr Barnes, this is Mary from CAP returning your call this morning, I’m sorry for the delay in getting back to you.”

She sounded professional and (unless he was totally mistaken) an Omega as well. That was a good sign – if she worked with these companions and felt safe then it was likely that so would Bucky.

“That’s fine. Thanks for the call.”

“I want to make sure that we are both on the same page, however, so I’ll describe the services that we provide and you can see if it’s something you are looking for.”

“That sounds ideal.” Bucky said, leaning back. Talking to another Omega was nice, he was already relaxing. It wasn’t the same with Natasha – her blockers worked so well that he could never have known she was Omega unless she hadn’t told him.

“We provide three services.” Mary said, and he could hear the movement of papers. “The first is a one day experience where you and one of our Alphas would attend and event – such as a wedding, a social dinner, or work event – where it would be easier for you to arrive with an Alpha to remove any unwanted advances. The Alpha would be introduced as a romantic partner who is courting you, and any contact or scenting would be limited to what would be considered socially acceptable in those situations.”

Bucky nodded. He could see where that would come in handy. If he had to go to something like his sister’s wedding again, he’d certainly not arrive as a single, unmated Omega. It had been hell.

“We also provide a longer term service where an Alpha, chosen from our carefully selected and fully background checked staff, would arrive at a private setting, such as your home or a hotel, and would provide scenting one to five times a week as required. This is a private meeting. It stays private.”

Bucky agreed with a hum. Scenting made things a little… intense and it would be best to stay away at any other time to ensure that a bond didn’t form. The weak ass Alphas they probably picked wouldn’t be able to sustain a knot so an **_actual_** bond was out of the question, but still – the emotional side would be there.

“And then we have a heat week pack. I think that’s about as self-explanatory as it needs to be.”

“Shit, that too?”

The operator laughed at his tone, teasing. He liked it. “Oh yeah. If you need it, it’s there. I mean, it’s not a bond, but… hey, it’s better than struggling through it alone.”

“I bet.” Bucky agreed. He remembered his heats in High School. Jesus, they were hell and high-water combined. He was just lucky he’d not had to go through one yet. The doctor told him that after so long on suppressants his cycle could take anywhere up to a year to kick in.

“So do you know what you are looking for? I can go into more detail and send you over an email with all the forms, numbers and costs.”

“The scenting.” Bucky said. “I just want to be left alone, you know?”

“Christ, do I ever.” She said, then coughed. “I mean… I understand why other Omegas use this service.”

“Do you?” Bucky blurts, knowing it’s a personal question. There is a pause and then…

“I do, um… Peter, he’s very nice, good at his job.”

And all the information Bucky might ever need about Peter was burned into his brain. Mary sounded hopeful and hurt and confused all at once.

“If I could get some details I’ll send you over the pack.” She says, all business, and Bucky agrees.

* * *

 

The pack is huge. There are so many forms, legal papers, a whole 40 page PDF on what to expect and more information than Bucky will ever need, including testimonials, background checks and even medical records.

He can see who the most popular Alphas are (listed in order: P.Parker, C. Barton, F. Nelson on and on… and then lastly, S.Rogers) He wonders if Parker is Peter, and then his brain trips over another name. Barton. Oh shit.

He’s on the phone before he even realises it, and there isn’t a doubt in his mind that Natasha knows what it’s about when she answers with:

“Pick him if you like; he’s apparently very good at his job.”

“I’m not going to ask your boyfriend to  ** _scent_**  me!” Bucky hissed, horrified. “Jesus Nat!”

“Then why are you calling?”

“I don’t know!” He whined. “Fuck. This was a bad idea.”

“No, it was a good idea.” Natasha said, voice cool. “Clint and I… it’s… you know I’m not… the suppressants…” Her voice faded out, and Bucky wanted to never have this conversation again.

“I know.” He said. “I know.”

“Not a lot of people want someone who doesn’t want them.” She said sharply, after a breath. “But Clint knows me and he’s okay with it.”

“Okay.” Bucky agreed. “I’m still not picking him, just so you know.”

“Your loss.” She said, and hung up on him. Great.

* * *

 

Three days later, at exactly 9.30am, Mary called him again. “We’ve looked over your requirements, and for what you’re looking for, we have three Alphas currently available, who you can meet tonight in an informal meet-and-greet, in a place of your choosing, to see how you feel in person.”

“Okay,” Bucky agreed. “That sounds fine with me.”

“We’ve got Peter, Clint and, um, Steve.” A pause. “Peter and Clint are our most popular Alphas, and Steve is also very nice.”

Bucky wants to groan. Peter is out of the question – although he knows he’ll probably never meet Mary, he also knows that whatever she’s feeling for Peter is confusing and he doesn’t want to muddy the waters. He can’t pick Clint for obvious reasons and Steve… well… he was the lowest ranked guy they had. He remembered the list. They had a  ** _lot_**  of guys.

“Um, so Steve… isn’t… um…”

“He’s not our most popular, but that doesn’t mean he’s not good at his job!” Mary urged. “It’s just… mostly people want… they have an idea of what… it’s a size thing.” She finally said.

“A size thing?”

“He’s bigger than most of our Alphas and it can be intimidating, especially if you want to feel in control.”

“Not the type of guy you could take in a fight?”

“He’s very good at his job, when he gets a chance to do it.” She sidestepped. He noticed that. Christ.

“Okay, so Steve? Tonight?”

* * *

 

The informal setting was a diner, far enough away from Bucky’s place that he’d never been before. He didn’t want Steve too close to his home in case they didn’t get along.

He’d just ordered (burger, fries, milkshake, generic and dull) when an Alpha walked through the door.

Bucky had been an Omega for a long, long time. He’d been the only one at his High School and he’d sat through the required ‘you and your new hormones’ video with about as much shame as a teenage boy could muster. So he knew about the whole biological drive, scenting and slick and all the other shit Betas just didn’t need to know – and he knew that it was just hormones, it really was, but…

Oh holy shit on a stick.

Bucky wanted to climb that Alpha like a **_tree_**.

He was probably pumping out hormones like a sewage pipe, and sure enough, the Alpha who’d walked in (broad and blond and clean and perfect) turned to face him. “Uh,” He said, raising his hand (Big hands, Bucky noted. Jesus, nice big hands) “Bucky?”

Oh no.

No no no no.

* * *

 

Steve was nice. Sure he was nice. He was nice and warm and smelt like sunshine, apple-pie and good clean sweat. He smelt like he’d smell better if he was  ** _dirty_**.

The whole thing was a baaaaad idea, and Bucky had a lot of bad ideas in his life. Loads. The one sitting across from him trying to look small and helpless and failing so, so miserably, was the worst.

“So,” Bucky said, spectacularly grateful that his server had dropped off the food so he had something to do with his hands that wasn’t pull the oversized Alpha over the small table and rub himself all over him. “How long have you been with CAP?”

“2 years.” Steve said, voice deep and secure and warm. “I helped a friend through some tough time and she introduced me to the service and I thought it was a good thing to do. To help.”

Jesus, he was so fucking earnest Bucky wanted to puke.

 Something must have registered on his face, because Steve’s stupidly, abnormally broad shoulders slumped. “This isn’t going to work, is it?” He asked, looking like someone not only kicked a puppy but that they’d done it with a kitten strapped to their boot. “I’m not what you wanted.”

Bucky felt like shit. “Look, it’s not you, okay – you seem great, you really do.” He did, Bucky knew. That was the fucking problem. “It’s just… you know… you’re a lot more…. You’re just more than I was expecting and I’m…” He waved a hand over his food like that was some kind of explanation. “You’re a really nice Alpha.” He finished, lamely, but Steve was already digging in his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. “You aren’t paying for this!” Bucky said, horrified – before a photo was placed on the table and pushed across. Give him his dues, Steve hadn’t put a single finger over the invisible half way boarder of the table.

The picture was a few years old, of a scrawny, short little guy with a side part and a really sad smile. Even in the picture, Bucky could just tell a brisk wind would bowl him over. There was zero doubt in his mind that the guy sitting across from him and the lil’ dude in the photo were the same.

“I didn’t start a rut until after high school.” Steve was saying, looking down at the picture. “Everyone thought I was a Beta, and I was okay like that, you know? Then I met Peggy and suddenly…” He waved a hand over himself. “I was 19.”

Shit. Bucky thought, blinking. “That couldn’t have been fun.”

“Not really, and look, I know, I know I’m not what you might have wanted but I swear on the flag, okay, I’m not an asshole and I  ** _really_**  need this job.”

“I’m sure there-” Bucky started, but Steve shoulders slumped down further.

“Look, I’ve had 12 meetings like this in two years and the moment everyone sees me they just shut me down.” Steve ran one of those big hands over his face and leaned back, before sighing and giving a big smile that was as fake as the flowers behind the cash register. “But, I can see that it’s not going to work out, so I’ll tell the office and they can set you up with Peter,”

“Yeah, I can’t do that.” Bucky cut in, leaning back in the plastic chair. “It’s complicated.”

“Clint-”

“Is dating my best friend.”

That seems like news to Steve who leans back with a big, goofy fucking grin. “Really? Clint?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” Steve nods, with a fond smile that flips Bucky’s gut over in not fun ways. Christ. He was so fucked.

* * *

 

What the fuck was he thinking?

Steve was standing in his living room looking so grateful and genuine in a pair of fucking pressed khakis and a blue button down. Jesus fucking Christ, Bucky was so screwed.

When the meeting had been over, Steve leaving with a smile and a perk in his step that lasted until he thought Bucky couldn’t see him, before he slouched over and pulled out his phone, practically dragging his feet down the sidewalk. People were still giving him looks though, because Steve was the kind of Alpha that people always wanted to look at. Bucky knew it was a bad idea, but he picked up the phone anyway and called Mary.

“Once a week, Friday night at 6pm, an hour.” He said, after she’d practically gushed down the line at how happy she was that Steve was **_finally_** getting a chance. He’d been hoping that the time slot wouldn’t be suitable, or the short notice, but it seemed that Steve had no other clients.

No fucking wonder.

It wasn’t fair that Omega biology was so fucked up, Bucky lamented as he watched Steve beam at him. Steve was a perfect Alpha, but the Omegas using the service weren’t looking for a perfect Alpha. They were looking for a small, skinny dude who couldn’t pop a knot to save his life and was therefore safe. **_Safe_**. Steve wasn’t safe. Steve was a solidly build 6 foot 2 Alpha who could easily overpower any Omega he wanted. He’d be able to knock Bucky on his ass. There was nothing safe about him.

But it wasn’t just that. It was the smell of him, that healthy, powerful Alpha smell that made Bucky want to climb into his lap and stay there. The only good thing Bucky could see from their arrangement is that there was no way in hell any other Alpha would think that Bucky wasn’t getting screwed on the regular if he smelt Steve anywhere near.

“Mary said you were looking for an hour?” Steve said, practically beaming. Jesus. “Is there anything you don’t want me to do? Remember, you can tell me to back off at any point if you change your mind.”

“Yeah, I read the pack.” Bucky said, nodding at the couch. He was wearing sweats and an old faded t-shirt for comfort (like the 40 page PDF file had suggested) and was pretty sure he wasn’t getting out with his dignity attached. “Here should be okay.”

Steve nodded, making his way over and sitting gently, like he still wasn’t sure of his size, or maybe just to show Bucky that he wasn’t a threat. Bucky couldn’t tell. “Do you want to start or…?”

* * *

 

Scenting was a basic part of being an Alpha and Omega pair. The scent would linger for a few days, showing any unmated Alphas that the Omega was not available to be courted. The smell of a competing male would pretty much act like pepper spray – He remembered his embarrassment fuelled lessons well enough to know that. It was why a lot of un-partnered Omegas used a service like CAP. They could get on with their lives without having a well-meaning and frankly annoying press of would-be suitors hanging around day and night.

All it really boiled down to was two consenting adults getting some very platonic cuddling on. Maybe a little press of noses against necks. No kissing. No licking. And certainly no biting.

* * *

 

Bucky reeked. Three showers and a full bottle of body wash and he still absolutely reeked of Steve. He couldn’t sit on the couch without casting up more of their joint scent into the air that was already thick with hormones – so he’d been avoiding it like the plague. Natasha was looking at him from across the table, at the same bar they’d been in before – had it really been a month already?

“You look more stressed than I expected.” She told him, before taking another sip of her drink. “Considering.”

“Considering what?”

“How we’ve been here for an hour and not a single one of the 9 Alphas in the room have so much as looked over.”

“Nine?” He said, blinking. His head was so full of Steve’s smell that he’d not picked up on the others.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “So, what’s this guy like?” She asked, “The one that’s got you smelling like an open sewer.”

“Christ, it’s not that bad, is it?” He said, absolutely refusing to sniff himself.

“I think you might have gotten a little over eager.” She advised, delicately – which was a first for her, he was sure. “Did you fuck him?”

“No!” Bucky whined, and then slammed a hand over his mouth because that… that was a fucking whine. A  ** _whine_**. Shit on a stick. He was turning into the stereotypical needy Omega, desperate for anything he could get.

He’d seen Steve three times, once a week for an hour.

* * *

 

Their first meeting had been terrible. Steve had tucked his hands under his thighs and spent the hour gently nuzzling over the pulse point in Bucky neck with about as much heat as a mother and her kids. Bucky was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to work out – it was awkward and weird and when the hour was over, Steve had shook his hand and smiled the same big, sad smile that Bucky had seen at the diner. He obviously assumed Bucky was going to get someone else to do the job – and it was only because Bucky was a stubborn asshole that he didn’t. Looking back, he should have realised that Steve was nervous and Bucky was maybe already in too deep.

* * *

 

The second time…

Bucky had a tough day. Fuck, he’d had a tough **_week_**. Steve’s scent hadn’t lasted more than a few hours, and Bucky had put up with more and more offers of ‘stability’. To make things worse, the douche who’d been at the bar had turned out to live a few blocks away, and had started pre-buying Bucky’s coffee at his favourite joint. It sounded nice in **_theory_** , but the whole thing was getting a bit too much – after all, Bucky didn’t want to give the guy the wrong impression, but he also needed caffeine to function.

It was mostly frustration and the sickening feeling of impotence that resulted in Bucky’s frantic packing back and forth while he waited for Steve. He certainly couldn’t sit by like a wilting wallflower while Steve tried to... what? Scent him without actually trying to touch him? So when Steve had shown up, Bucky just wanted everyone to leave him the fuck alone, and he’d gone at scenting Steve like a drowning man needed air.

Steve had been a little taken aback before ( _Shit on a fucking stick_ ) pulling Bucky into his lap and returning the favour with gusto. The weak, almost watery scent of the week before was obviously not due to Steve’s lack of ability to access his scent glands – almost as soon as Bucky had settled into his lap and drawn the first of what would be many deep breaths into the skin of Steve’s neck, the Alpha had started pumping out hormones like a  ** _factory_**.

Steve made absolutely ridiculous noises when Bucky pulled and pushed, testing the waters to see if Steve was really going to let Bucky do whatever he wanted rather than pull some macho “Me big Alpha” crap that tended to go hand in hand with his biology. If anything, Bucky’s enthusiasm seemed to kick Steve into overdrive, and when the hour was up, he gave Bucky a smile so bright it hurt to look at. Jesus. Bucky was so fucked and he wasn’t even getting fucked.

The smell lingered all week and Bucky had the delight of buying his own drinks at the bar  ** _and_**  his own groceries. The Alpha from the bar though, hadn’t got the memo.

* * *

 

Then, the night Bucky had arranged to meet Natasha at the bar, Steve had shown up right on time – and didn’t even wait for Bucky to pull him in – as soon as Bucky’s ass hit the couch, Steve had him pinned against the cushions, nose wedged firmly at the hinge of his jaw.

Bucky’s sweats hadn’t done jack shit to hide just how much he was so totally down with that – the more he squirmed the more Steve had growled, a soft, warm, rolling rumble that seemed to vibrate out of his chest and directly into Bucky’s body. For a full hour Bucky had completely forgot that Steve was a means to an end. He forgot that the Alpha pulling helpless whimpers from his throat was getting paid. He forgot everything but the feel and smell of being utterly dominated.

And then Steve’s little alarm he’d programmed into his phone went off and it all came crashing back. Steve had stiffened completely (parts of him had been stiff for a lot longer, Bucky’s lizard brain noted) before pulling away with a grimace.

“I’m so sorry.” He’d said, pulling back and helping Bucky sit up. “I didn’t… I’m sorry.” He carefully pulled Bucky back upright as thought he expected to be slapped the instant Bucky was on his feet, and all but ran out of the apartment.

Three showers later and apparently Bucky still  ** _reeked_**.

“I’m not sleeping with him.” He said, trying to strangle any semblance of whining out of his voice. Jesus fucking shit on a stick.

“If you say so.” She smirked, leaning back with a wicked grin, and Bucky manfully resisted the urge to kick her under the table. It had nothing to do with the fact that she was more than capable of breaking both his legs if he tried.

* * *

 

“Hi again.” Someone said, standing directly behind Bucky as he waited for his coffee to be made. It had been a fairly uneventful Saturday morning – Bucky had taken a shower, went for a run and then swung past the Pott’s coffee shop that made the best French press in a 15 block radius. The voice wasn’t immediately familiar, and when he tried to turn around he found that the Alpha-douche from the fucking bar had managed to corner him between the wall and the counter. Bucky wasn’t a weak guy – he’d been in Special Forces for nearly 8 years and he wasn’t easily intimidated.

“Back off.” He said, firmly. He wasn’t trying to make a scene but wasn’t going to let some hormone jacked asshole try to intimidate him while he was getting his fucking coffee.

“Don’t be like that.” The ass-douche said, taking a step backwards. “I smell you’ve got a new friend since we were introduced.” He said it like Bucky wasn’t still stinking of Steve. What the hell was this guys issue? Normal Alphas knew to stay the fuck away.

“We weren’t introduced, and it’s none of your business.” Bucky snapped. He seriously didn’t want to think about Steve and the absolutely disastrous appointment the night before.

“Don’t be like that, James.” He said, pulling away as Bucky’s phone started to ring in the strap he had on his arm. Bucky glared at him as the asshole left, before picking up the call by tucking his headphones back in. The little mic on the end wasn’t so great, but it was easier than trying to pull the phone out.

“Yeah?”

“Mr Barnes? It’s Mary from CAP.”

* * *

 

“Are you calling me for a reason?” Natasha’s voice was clipped and short. In the background he could hear someone singing off key and clattering around the kitchen. Perfect.

“I need you to get me the private number of Steve Rogers.” He managed, already starting to feel his temperature rising. Fucking Steve. He’d told CAP he couldn’t work with Bucky anymore because he’d been ‘unprofessional’ and Mary had told him that they’d had to ‘let him go’ after his confession. Bucky had stood outside the coffee shop sipping his latte (they’d done something to it, he knew, it was too fucking sweet) and arguing that Steve hadn’t done anything wrong and why the fuck would he say that?

“Mr Barnes, if Steve felt that he’d crossed a line with you, then he is completely correct to advise us. We have to look after our clients.”

“Mary, he didn’t do anything wrong!”

She sighed. “He told me about it,” She said, “That he pinned you?”

“I was totally, 100% okay with that!” Bucky said, taking another drink and screwing up his face at the sweetness. He’d picked up the wrong drink or something, there was way too much sugar in this one. He tossed it in the trash.

“Really?”

“Yes!” Bucky snapped. “And I’d like him to do it some more, okay?”

Mary had promised she’d see what she could do, but that had been an hour ago and Bucky was still too pissed off to cool down. Natasha playing it cool wasn’t helping either.

“Who?”

“Steve-” He cut himself off. “Just ask Clint, okay?”

The silence on the other side of the phone is deafening. And he really shouldn’t have used that word to describe it, considering, but still.

 “He said no.” She said, after a pause of too fucking long for Bucky’s liking. The line went dead.

“Well fuck you.” He snapped at the silence, tossing his phone on the couch. It bounced once, displacing the scent bubble that had built up in the stale air.

He paused. There was no one to see him, no one at all to judge what he did in his own home. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one movement, throwing himself against the cushions with a deep inhale. Fuck Steve Rogers, he thought, as he snuggled deeper into the seat covers like a hormone riddled teenager. Fuck him and his shoulders too.

* * *

 

It was dark when he finally woke up, the comforting smell of his Alpha surrounding him, soothing his mood and evening out his temper with each breath. The air around him was heavy and loaded with hormones Bucky could hardly understand, until he pushed himself up and felt the air like a cold slap on his overheated skin. Shit.

His Doctor had warned him about going into heat – that he might not get a lot of warning, but he’d expected at least a few days of symptoms. He’d never heard of anyone going from fine straight into full blown fever before.

He fumbled around, found his phone and was about to call Natasha and ask her to get some supplies for what was definitely the start of his heat, when he saw a message from a number he didn’t recognise.

The subject was black, and the body of the text was just another number. He touched a shaky finger to the digits and pressed ‘call’ just as three strong knocks sounded on his door.

Padding over to the door, he unlocked it with shaking hands, phone tucked between his ear and shoulder.

“Steve Rogers,” The unmistakeable voice said, as Bucky reached for the handle.

* * *

 

Bucky had been pushed back. The door he’d unlocked was being shut by a strange Alpha… no, not a stranger… but not the Alpha Bucky wanted. His mind was slowing down as his heart rate spiked, his heat hitting him fast and hard. The doctor warned him that after so long on suppressants that he might have a ‘super heat’ – one that was longer and stronger than a typical Omega cycle, but that it would even out the longer he went without the pills – but he wasn’t stupid, this wasn’t normal. He shouldn’t be so confused. Heat made everything stronger, better, sharper. He shouldn’t be... his head swam dangerously.

He was dimly aware that he had unlocked the door – and that he’d been on the phone – but he couldn’t remember inviting anyone inside. He wasn’t sure why he was on the floor. Had he fallen? The strange Alpha was locking the door, and Bucky blinked owlishly at him, confused.

“Who…?” He managed, but his voice was a high whine. “What?”

“Hello again James.” The Alpha said, and Bucky… he remembered…

“You’re the guy from the bar… the coffee shop?”

“You remember me? That's... good.” He didn’t sound too sure about that thought as he smiled and held out his hand. “I’m going to help you out.”

Bucky might have been slow on the uptake but he wasn’t stupid. “No thanks.” He managed, pushing the offered hand away with a hard shove. He wasn’t some weak, scared Omega. If he could just get his head sorted out, he would be able to beat the ever-loving shit outta this asshole. It was just really hard for him to concentrate.

“Don’t be like that,” The Alpha said, with a smile. “I know what you need.”

“I need to you leave.” Bucky said, looking around. How had the guy got into his apartment? The door was locked… had Bucky… he’d been on the phone… had he called…? He was sure he didn’t call this guy. He didn’t want this guy… “Go away.”

“Now now.” The Alpha said, smiling gently. “After everything I’ve done for you?” He shook his head, looking down at where Bucky was sprawled. “You know, it wasn’t very nice of you to have that other male around after I made it quite clear that I was looking after you.”

“Steve.” Bucky said. Steve was the Alpha Bucky wanted.

The Alpha growled violently before running a hand over his face. “Don’t… Don’t say his name, James. I don’t want to be angry with you.”

“Fuck off.” Bucky manages. His temperature is spiking too fast, there was no way a heat – even a super heat – would hit this fast. He felt fine before his coffee.

His coffee.

“You did something to my drink.” He slurs, because yup – he’d been distracted at the shop, the guy too close and pushing and then he’d been on the phone to Mary and… and… “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” The Alpha shrugged. “I just helped things move along a little, so you could see… so you could see that I was the Alpha you needed.” He smiled, still standing over Bucky with his hand stretched out to help. “Just a little incentive, is all. Relax you a little. I’m here to help.”

Bucky  ** _did_**  need help, but not from him. Not… he needed **_help_**. Because it might have been a heat, but it wasn’t  ** _just_**  heat, and whatever that douche-alpha slipped into his coffee was making it hard for Bucky to think straight. “You know,” The Alpha was saying, smiling gently. “If you’d been a nice little Omega, if you’d done the things you should have done when you were younger – this wouldn’t have been necessary.” He said, and tisked Bucky gently. “No Alpha wants an Omega who works out – you’re not a Beta, sweetheart. You’re supposed to be soft, gentle. Why are you out jogging? Good Omegas only work up a sweat when it  ** _matters_**.”

“Oh fuck off.” Bucky whined. “Fuck right-”

His words were lost when the door, his door, his front door – was kicked off its hinges. “Oh, hey Steve.” Bucky sighed, before passing out.

* * *

 

“It’s called Novarine.” A voice was saying, cool and calm. “It’s one of the real nasty ones, you’re lucky that the paramedics got there on time. It looks like he didn’t actually take a full dose – from what we’ve seen it can be deadly.”

Bucky blinked a few times, let his eyes get adjusted to the harsh light of the sterile room.

“What does it do?” Natasha was asking, and Bucky opened his eyes for real just so he could see her look all professional. She did look professional. She had her black ninja gear on, with her red hair just a little curled, and an expression of pure rage.

“It sends most Omega into a faux-heat within an hour or so of taking it, while also acting as a CNSD.” He said, looking at his notes, and noticing Bucky was awake. “Mr Barnes, how do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

Natasha grinned. “You smell like it too. Seriously. Sewer.”

“What happened?”

“The asshole from the bar spiked your coffee.” Natasha growled. “And waited till you were out of it before showing up at your apartment.” She grinned at him, and Bucky was reminded that sharks sometimes looked friendlier than Natasha. “You’d called Steve, and he was on the line when it went down.” He looked over at the door. “He’s outside with Clint. He called the cops and got to your place about 3 seconds before they did, which was good news cause he nearly killed-” She looked at the doctor and blinked. “Well, he was very annoyed and had some strong words with the Alpha in question and shook his finger in a  ** _very_**  stern way.”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “This wouldn’t be the same Alpha who arrived here with four broken ribs, a fractured arm and a dislocated hip, was it?”

“He fell down the stairs.” She said, blandly. “A couple of times.”

“Of course he did.” The doctor said, smoothly. “And I assume that can be backed up by the seven or so officers that had to pull Mr Rogers out of the room?”

“Of course.” Natasha beamed. “Those fine, upstanding Alpha gents? The ones who got a call from the Mayor about their excellent work?  ** _Those_**  police officers?”

* * *

 

Bucky was kept in for observation for three more days. He wasn’t going into heat – once the drugs had been flushed out of his system, he’d been fine – he felt a little hungover and a little punch drunk, but fine all the same.

Natasha hadn’t left his side.

“He didn’t lay a finger on me, Tasha.” He said, not for the first time, as she sat in the padded chair she’d managed to liberate from somewhere, feet propped up on his bed. “I’m fine. Mostly I’m pissed at myself for letting it happen.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“If I’d been paying more att-”

“It wasn’t your fault.” She said, louder, sharper, cutting him off. “Bucky, he targeted you specifically. He stalked you for months, and he slipped you a roofie.  ** _None_**  of that is your fault, okay?”

Bucky leaned back into the pillows. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed. “How’s Clint?”

“Fine.”

“Cool.”

* * *

 

Steve visited.

He hovered by the door for a few minutes before Bucky had pointedly invited him to take a seat. Bucky had been pleased to see him, more pleased than he’d have liked to admit, and seeing Steve there, solid and real and looking a little uncomfortable but mostly just looking like Steve. Big, safe Steve.

“I’m sorry I scented you against your will.” Steve said, after sitting a few moments in uncomfortable silence. “I know you must be thinking that every Alpha you meet is… is… a total asshole, but… I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.”

Bucky blinked. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” He said, after going over the sentence in his head. “Did… did you do something when I was passed out?”

Steve looked horrified. “What? No!” He said, “I was talking about our appointment. I… I… pinned you down.”

The snort that escaped him was amused. “Was that why you told Mary you didn’t want to see me anymore? Because you got a little excited in your pants?” Steve’s mortified expression made Bucky grin. “Look, did I ask you to stop? Did I, at any point, try to push you off or make any sign that I wasn’t fully, 100% on board with letting you climb all over me?” He paused. “I don’t let people do that to me unless I want them to.” He shot Steve a smirk. “Or I want them to do it again.”

“Oh.”

“Oh is right.” Bucky sighed, closing his eyes. “Now you just stay there while I get some sleep, okay? Cutie like you could probably snag a few extra pudding cups, right, if the cart comes around?”

* * *

* * *

 

The female Omega at the bar was standing way to close to Steve for Bucky’s mood to be anything but sour. “She’s got a nose, right?” Bucky said, looking at Natasha. “It’s on her  ** _face_** , I can  ** _see_**  it, why isn’t she using it?”

“She’s not doing anything.”

“She’s not doing anything?” He parroted, tone mocking. “Look at her!”

The woman in question smiled up at Steve (the giant lump, Bucky was going to kill him) who smiled back before pointing over at where Bucky and Natasha were sitting. The bar was too hot; Bucky could see where Steve was starting to sweat through the material of his shirt. When she made eye contact with Bucky, her smile faltered – she took a deliberate step back from Steve.

“Oh dear god.” Natasha sighed when Bucky grinned smugly. “You are fucking pathetic.”

Bucky grinned wider, and wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. “Jesus, they haven’t half jacked up the AC in here, have they?”

Natasha blinked. “What?”

“It’s fucking boiling.” He told her, smirking when Steve appeared at his side, two heavily iced fruity drinks, and a beer for Natasha. “You making new friends?” He asked pointedly, unable to help the smile when Steve rolled his eyes.

“You know fine well you’re stuck with me, right?” Steve said, wiping his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt. “Did they turn the heat up?”

“Think so,” Bucky smirked, taking his drink and enjoying the sharp sting of ice and booze. “I’m not complaining. You smell **_good_** when you smell bad.”

“I’m gonna puke.”

Steve laughed, his big, solid laugh, and Bucky’s gut twisted up pleasantly. All he wanted was to climb up in that, remind himself just how good Steve tasted whe-

“You both need to leave.” Natasha said, getting to her feet. “Right now.”

“Huh?” Steve said, and Bucky wondered when they’d started staring at one another.

“Right now.” She repeated. “Jesus, ‘ _is it hot in here or is it just me?_ ’” She mocked. “It’s just you. It’s both of you.” She rolled her eyes. “Bucky, how long have you guys been dating now?”

“Five months, three weeks and 6 days.” Steve promptly said, with a grin. “It’s our half a year anniversary tomorrow.”

“Great.” Natasha said, “You can celebrate with crazy hot sex.”

“That was the plan.” Bucky smirked, trying to ignore just how even the thought of getting Steve back to their apartment was kicking his heart into a higher gear. Going on the slightly glazed expression on Steve’s face, he wasn’t the only one.

“I’m going to assume that neither of you have noticed that no-one else here is sweating? Or getting irrationally jealous?” She spread her arms wide. “Congratulations – you’ve both managed to forget everything you learnt in health class.”

“Oh!” Steve said, standing up. “I’m going into rut.”

The words, spoken without thought, made something in Bucky sit up and beg. He whined – sharply cut off by a low, deep rumble from Steve. “Oh god.” Bucky said, slapping a hand to his sweaty forehead. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

“Yup.” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, you two are idiots. How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Couple days.” Bucky admitted. It would explain a lot. Bucky was pretty highly sexed since he’d started dating Steve, but the last two days had been... well...

He was starting to worry about chaffing, is all.

Steve blinked once, then again. Bucky could see the instant it clicked in his head – he snapped upright from where he’d been leaning into Bucky, and subtly sniffed the air. Natasha rolled her eyes again. Bucky was pretty sure she was going to get eye strain if she kept hanging out with them.

“Hey, Steve?” Bucky said, leaning back just a little, letting his head touch against those stupidly ridiculous shoulders. “Wanna take me home and see if all the porn about Heat Week is accurate?”

* * *

 

Not even close.

“Chafing.” Bucky groaned, flopping on his back with a whimper. “I **_can’t_** anymore. I’m dead.”

“K.” Steve muttered, face down on the mattress where he’d collapsed a few moments before, then lifted his head fractionally to look at Bucky. His hair was wet, his pupils blown. Bucky had never seen anything hotter in his whole life. “Want me to order pizza and fool around till it gets here?”

Bucky grinned. “Hell **_yeah_**.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gah, this took me forever to write and I really struggled and I've got some kind of throat infection and I feel like shit and I'm sorry it's not really cute and if you hate it sorry.
> 
> It's my 47th Meet-Cute! I've been writing these for over a year now. How weird is that?  
> I kinda feel bad cause when I started there was about 2 to 4 a week and now it's like one a or two a month. Sorry. After a while it gets little harder to think of new situations and plots, you know? Especially since I'd like to think that no two are the same - you might disagree though!  
> -  
> Also, I started watching Hawaii Five-0. Christ.


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